Father's Talk
by Gemmery
Summary: One ran away from his guild's terrifying secret. Another ran after discovering his son was alive. These two father met by chance in the same tavern, and what's better than drinking away your worries with a stranger who appreciates a good beverage? Rated T for a little bad language.


A/N: Er...Hi. It's been a while, huh? Please don't kill me yet, let me explain. To anyone who has been reading Avatars of Avatar and wanted it to continue - I am sorry, but after a series of events and massive plot holes, I've given up on it. It wasn't that good to begin with, but I might try something similar in the future. Who knows? However, I have not given up writing. Updates are probably going to be very far apart, since life is an issue :)

This oneshot was a random idea that I have been discussing with PokeTail for a LONG time...Seriously, she deserves a lot of credit for editing all of my mistakes :)

And with those notes over, please enjoy!

* * *

Crimson-soaked rays of light draped across the sky, signalling the end of another day in the town of Kahalok. Some market merchants packed away their last stock for evening, folding silk wraps or discarding old produce, whilst others almost begged any passers-by to purchase one more item. Occasionally, curious cats would scavenge the areas in the hopes of finding forgotten treasures littered by drunkards or overly-eager merchants. Narrow streets weaved towards a central hill, creating a maze-like structure known well only to those who live there.

Atop the hill lay a large wooden building with a crooked sign, entitled: Garbo's Palace. Jubilant cheers echoed outside the tavern from early revellers and the stench of ale drifted into the surrounding pathways. Inside was a fairly wide floor with the usual bar, stools, tables, chairs, and also had two sets of creaking stairs at both sides of the room leading to multiple rooms. The oaken furniture was dull and worn as well as having chunks carved out - most likely due to the amount of brawls that occur here.

That is why, to Gildarts Clive, this place is a second home to him.

Positioned on his favourite bar stool (third from the right of the counter; the perfect spot with choice to enter a fight or not) with a glass of whiskey swirling in his metallic left hand, Gildarts was thinking - a bad sign - of the recent events. This revelation of Makarov's had left quite the mark on him (the guild's first master in a flipping crystal) and in an effort to escape - I mean, understand - the secret left by the masters, he ran to the northern town. He even had to be guild master for a moment, which 'encouraged' his little trip away and made his missing organs do a somersault simultaneously. Gildarts is too young to be tied down in one place, let alone having to be master of that trouble. Just think of the paperwork!

However, not only did he just flee without a word to the guild (besides his hastily-written letter), he didn't even say goodbye to his adorable little girl, Cana. Oh boy, Gildarts was going to be in trouble when he returned. Images of her scowling face and the lecturing he would definitely receive haunted his mind, causing involuntary shudders to run through his spine.

 _Ah well, there's not much I can do here_ , he thought solemnly. Gildarts rapidly guzzled the contents of his glass, flashing a short smile to the beauty that was a bar maid who glided past.

* * *

 _It isn't possible_ , he repeated. He didn't - couldn't - believe a dream like this could come true. Yet this year, Silver's world happened to turn upside down.

His son was still alive.

In light of this revelation, the raven-haired father darted as far north as his legs carried him. Though his order from Tartarus required him to be in Crocus, being near him was becoming just too tempting, so Silver had to put distance between them. Mika's pride and joy could be standing right next to him and he would have to restrain his broken body from wrapping his little boy in his arms. That single thought ensnared his undead brain, trying to comprehend this torturous miracle he had been granted.

Yes, he was happy. More than that, but there was a sinking feeling jumbled within his elation courtesy of his employer, _Keith_. That demon somehow knew everything. The necromancer wouldn't overlook opportunities to enslave his minions entirely, body and soul. If Keith knew... he couldn't continue. Because of him, Gray was in danger. Again, and there is physically nothing he could do.

But of course, that wasn't the worst problem the despicable necromancer could cause. He himself was a problem. A dead man had no find place amongst the living; Silver could never hope to stand by his boy's side. Yet he knew, one day, Tartarus would stand against the word of magic and he would be the enemy to Gray's way of life.

One habit of his which had remained passed death was to drink whenever he was panicked, which was how his worn umber boots ended up outside of a rather rambunctious structure. Instantly, the smell of alcohol whacked him in the face, literally. A dulled tankard emptied its pint of ale onto his hair as was flung out the door.

 _Just perfect_ , he thought whilst ruffling his raven hair with a ragged towel handed to him by an apologetic women. Returning it gratefully to the young maid, Silver made his way to the bar and claimed a seat near a dishevelled man. It seemed like the guy had already enjoyed a few beverages, judging by the flushed colour of the man's face.

"Never seen you 'round before" the stranger's gruff voice commented. "This little place hardly ever gets new faces. You running from trouble?"

Silver gaped at the man, stunned by the bluntness of his statement. Apparently the stranger thought it was hilarious and proceeded to bellow out laughter. The former father felt ashamed, ordering a drink and trying to ignore the wails from the right of him. When the drunk managed to compose himself, he fully turned to face Silver.

"Ah, I'm sorry. It's just most people here have some reason...you know," he said solemnly. Raising his hand, he stated "Name's Gildarts. You?"

Silver hesitated briefly, but deciding it wasn't an important bit of information, he replied: "Silver."

Gildarts hummed with acknowledgment and resumed looking towards the bar. Taking another swig, the ebony guild mark emblazoned on his chest became visible, and Silver's eyes widened in recognition.

Fairy Tail.

 _Gray's guild_.

"You're in Fairy Tail?" he inquired, the voice betraying his slight uncertainty. However, this went unnoticed by the mage as the brunette puffed his chest with pride and placed a hand over the mark. A smirk crept along his rose face.

"Of course I am! I'm their strongest active mage. An' I taught those stubborn brats everything they know!" Gildarts bragged and laughed heartily. "They wouldn't have won the games without me, you know! I've known most of 'em since they were this big," gesturing his left hand to the height of the bar stool. Silver, although he knew delving into this territory would only burden his heart more, had to gain answers to some of the endless questions which plagued him. What happened after the incident, when did he join Fairy Tail, where had he learnt magic, etc. But how do you ask such questions and not draw suspicion? Ask a drunkard.

"You up for another drink?" Silver tapped his empty glass to the man, earning himself a thankful smile and a nod. Another person, this time an elderly man, refilled their glasses as both seemed to stare in anticipation and took time to appreciate their beverage. Before Silver had the chance to begin his interrogation, Gildarts began speaking with a slight slur noticeable in his speech.

"So, have you watched the games then?"

"I did. It was brilliant. Do you-". Once again, just as Silver wished to speak, Gildarts happily interrupted.

"They truly showed the spirit of Fairy Tail! Never taking 'no' for an answer and doing the impossible. That's just Natsu in a nutshell! You'd never believe that salmon-head and Gajeel seriously wanted to kill each other a few months - I mean, years - ago after that amazing fight against the other dragon slayers. Who were they again? Sing and Rouge?" He paused momentarily, tilting his head sideways and resting his chin on one hand. It did not stop his rant for long enough, sadly. "Not that it matters, I guess. And then you had little Wendy and Lucy too, showing what the newbies could do too! Even Gray -"

Silver had his chance, and dived straight into the heart of this matter.

"You know Gray?" Gildarts just scoffed at the question, the smirk plastering itself on the mage's face like a Cheshire cat.

"Know him? I'm the one who brought the little ice prince to the guild after…" Any energy he had previously seemed to dissipate, filling Silver with dread. _Was it truly so soon after our death?_

"After his teacher died saving him from that bastard demon."

Suddenly, Silver felt cold. Colder than the veil of death wound around him. He'd been prepared to hear about his own demise again, but not a different loss Gray had. That demon wasn't satisfied just ruining Gray's life once and took away another he loved. He cursed under his breath, fists clenched in rage, though his drinking friend didn't notice, too lost in his own memories of Ur and her dream. So silence reigned between them for a second time.

Several moments had passed before Gildarts resumed the conversation, not entirely cheerful.

"He's a good kid, really. Doesn't seem it, but he's just shy I reckon. Not that you can tell from his habit though." They both shared a half-hearted chuckle.

"Seriously," Silver begin and raised an eyebrow, "who thought it would be a good idea for him to have such an... odd habit?". A layer of accusation was hinted in his tone.

"Don't look at me. Though I guess it's part of our family, those unusual hobbies. After all, we have three people who eat their magic's element, a perverted master, a devil-turned-angel and a hall full of idiots who punch one another's faces on a daily basis. Need I continue?" Gildarts released an amused sigh whilst Silver grinned devilishly.

"If that's the case, what's your unusual perk?"

The raven eyes belonging to the destructive mage widened greatly, appearing in deep thought until a triumphant "Ah-ha!" broke his own spell.

"I", his voice was brimming with self-importance, "am the most doting father in Fiore for my darling girl Cana!" He left off the bar stool to stand, both hands placed on his hip and attempting to look superior which failed drastically as suppressed laughter escaped his lips. Although meant humorously, the effect was lost on Silver, the forced noise of amusement leaving him while pangs of jealous raced through the frozen veins. _It isn't his fault_ , Silver reprimanded himself and scowling inwardly, _he doesn't know_. The self-loathing was disrupted by a drawn-out groan from the person of his envy as he retook his seat.

"Still, I truthfully shouldn't say that anymore. I left her without a word in person and a feeble letter as an explanation. She's probably going to forsake me when I return…" Gildarts' eyes gazed downwards, staring into the unseen horizon beside a regretful smile. The metallic hand absentmindedly clasped and unclasped repeatedly in apprehension.

Removing his own raven eyes from the sorrowful display, and joined his friends' stare into the distance. _Like looking into a mirror_. The devil slayer understood the torment the mage went through of not knowing if your child would accept you back (to a greater extent). Exhaling, he placed a hand on Gildarts' shoulder reassuringly.

"She will, as long as you return one day alive, no matter how far in the future, she will forgive you…" Faltering marginally as his vision blurred faintly. He directed himself at Gildarts who, although not facing him, wore a dazed expression. "You should treasure her company as she will cherish yours. Don't allow recollections to be all she remembers of you."

For the final time that evening, as the night captured the last glimpses of light, the men fell quiet. Other late-night revellers frequently approached the duo, beginning conversations or challenging one another to see who could hold their drink. In the end, no one within Garbo's Palace was left sober or able to move straight.

Yet by the time dawn advanced, the ice mage had vanished from sight.

* * *

A/N: There you have it. Hope you liked it, and have a good day!


End file.
